


work husbands

by Mathilda_Selem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Aurors, Feelings Realization, Harry Potter is a possessive bastard, M/M, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Past Relationship(s), Work partners - Freeform, mentions of Trans!Bulstrode, very mild dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mathilda_Selem/pseuds/Mathilda_Selem
Summary: Just some short thing inspired by an instagram post of a lady calling their favourite fellow nurse their "work wife".Theoretically  Harry has known for a long time that Ron is bisexual or something.However he had spent the last years being pretty much unaware of it. It never came really up with Ron dating Lavender and marrying Hermione and having kids and then dating Susan, Lavender again, Emmie after that, then Josephine.Ron had never calledhimhis work wife but he obviously felt very comfortable with his new partner Bulstrode being referred to as such.Harry finally has to deal with the fact that Ron wouldn't be opposed to have a relationship with a man and he's not okay with idea  to give up his position as the most important man in his mate's life.Also he's drunk and wants to kiss Ron.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 115





	1. work husbands

Theoretically Harry has known for a long time that Ron is bisexual or something.  
He’d known since they had been very young and very drunk on whiskey they didn’t even like down in the Hogwarts kitchen on some boring Tuesday night and Ron had rambled about Victor Krum’s legs of all things. Which he could understand quite well...not mooning about Victor’s legs, but because he _was_ a genius quidditch player and even the straightest of blokes probably had to reason with themselves pretty hard to push the Bulgarian Seeker out of their bed.  
He said so and Ron had very unmistakeably made it clear it was not just quidditch players but also ordinary blokes, though he was of course very partial to quidditch players.  
Harry remembers feeling a bit queasy at the thought of Ron _pursuing_ other boys that were actually in reach instead of fantasising about unobtainable quidditch players but he can vaguely remember awkwardly saying something about Ron being his best mate and that it didn’t matter who he liked before they changed to another topic.

Yes, on a certain level he knew that Ron was bisexual.  
However he had spent the last years being pretty much unaware of it. It never came really up with Ron dating Lavender and marrying Hermione and having kids and then dating Susan, Lavender again, Emmie after that, then Josephine...  
Harry is sure he hadn’t even _thought _about Ron’s sexual orientation in years...maybe decades.  
In all their years of being best mates Harry had been the undisputed most important man in his friend's life...maybe perhaps except Ron’s own son Hugo. He was absolutely sure to be the most significant dude in Ron’s life and he was really happy with that position.__

__He didn’t expect things to change between them when Ron transferred to a leading position as a strategist in the British Interwiz team.  
Yes, they didn’t work every day shoulder to shoulder any more but they still met after work more often than not when they didn’t meet up with co-workers after work. The first week after Ron transferred Ron looked a lot more happy being now on a position that a had a good chance for promotion. They never talked about it but sometimes Harry felt a bit like holding Ron back when it came to leading positions. If it wasn’t his name Harry’s distrust of other people to do their job properly lead him into the Head Auror position quite early knowing that he could only relax when he was the one doing the job and controlling the teams.  
Ron had been his second in command for several years and supported him until he was sure that Harry had found his footing as a Head Auror before he told him he wanted to try furthering his own career.  
Harry was happy for him though he did feel a little abandoned at first.  
Ron had worked hard and he was an exceptional Auror, so of course he _deserved_ to reap the fruits of his work and get the recognition and pay he deserved.  
BUT Harry still kinda missed arriving at work in the morning to a bright freckled face and a paper bag of freshly baked croissants.  
During the autumn months things had gotten busy in both the Auror Department and the International Defence Department so they hadn’t seen each other more than when they went to lunch accidentally on purpose at the same time. Harry got a little anxious without his friend's calming influence around but he pushed through and even had done all his Christmas shopping when he entered the Headless Huntsman, a small Wizard pub that is preferred by most of the Aurors because of its location close to the office as well as the usually hotspots of Wizard activity in England.  
Just entering the room he saw a few of his co-workers and, since the work atmosphere in their department was rather companionable, it felt right to sit down next to one of his senior Aurors for a little chat and a beer.  
The pre-christmas spirit is only timidly noted by a scarcely-leafed holly garland around the entry and, to Harry comfort, no mistletoe. Ever since the year after war and George’s charmed mistletoes those buggers always make him uncomfortable.  
Harry is half through his second beer when the door opens and the man he’d waited to see the whole day is lowering his head to not bump it against the door frame as he enters.  
He shakes wet snowflakes out of his short red hair and it feels like just by stepping inside the room around Ron seems brighter and warmer than before. For a moment his friend is scanning the tables until he finally detects Harry and grins broadly spreads his arms in a gesture of joy. _ _

__Harry waves a little with his bottle and the blokes at his table turn around to follow his gaze. A moment later Ron is surrounded by his ex-colleagues bumping their shoulders together and slapping his back and Ron positively glows because he loves this. Loves attention, loves people _see_ him.  
Harry is not sure he likes it when Ron is getting so much attention...he’s not jealous of Ron... He just doesn’t like it when Ron concentrates on others instead of him...never had.  
He can still remember very clearly how angry his teenage-self had been at the time they were fighting and Ron had just so easily fallen into the friendship with Seamus and Dean or how his stomach had ached as they weathered the storm of Lavender.  
Even Ron’s marriage with Hermione, though a lot more tolerable than the Lavender thing, had sometimes made him feel a little less important and he didn’t like it._ _

__Senior Auror Baumanis moves to another chair to make room for Ron to sit next to Harry, because of course he’ll sit there...everyone knows Harry and Ron prefer to sit next to each other and Harry feels like he can finally breath freely as the warmth of the redhead’s body next to seeping through his knitted jumper.  
He sighs and just opened his mouth ask his friend how he's doing but Auror Ramón was faster.  
Harry tries not to be disgruntled.  
“Where’s your work wife, Weasley? It’s rare to see you without Bulstrode nowadays.”  
“ _Husband_.” Ron corrects with a grin putting his arm on the backrest of the bench settling a his tall body comfortably against Harry’s side.  
“Don’t call Miles a _wife_ , no matter how good of an Auror you are, Bulstrode has more experience than you and can make you tap out in seconds, mate.” he adds good-naturedly before ordering himself a beer._ _

__Ron had never called _him_ his work wife but he obviously felt very comfortable with his new partner Bulstrode being referred to as such.  
Harry feels something terrifying and ancient in his chest bare its fangs and can barely stop himself protesting childishly that _he_ has a lot more experience being Ron’s partner than Miles Bulstrode ever will.  
He’s still their boss and he really should air his dirty emotional laundry right under his subordinates noses. Harry doubts even Ron is aware of how bloody _possessive_ Harry feels about him.  
“Maybe he’ll join us later. We went Christmas shopping together. Miles said he still has to run some other errands and I didn’t feel like angry aunties stepping on by feet.” _ _

__Harry can barely make out out words through the blood roaring in his ears let alone participate in the conversation.  
He had asked him this morning if Ron wanted to go Christmas shopping together and his friend had declined telling him he had other plans. Ron had chosen to spent time with Bulstrode instead of him.  
Harry felt like throwing his bottle against his head and scream. This felt almost worse than when Ginny cheated on him back before they broke up when everything was hurting.  
He drinks too much and too fast and if he didn’t know Ron was there to have his back he’d have gone home hours ago. It’s not to the point that it’s getting embarrassing but he’s well on the way to being thoroughly slushed.  
He shouldn’t, because he’s with his subordinates and it’s not even four in the afternoon, but he really doesn’t want to care about anything any more._ _

__It’s Ron that finally picks up on his mood.  
He urges him to finish his beer and invents a family function to make their departure short before apparating Harry to Grimmauld Place. Harry feels lonely and kinda sick when they land staggering on the wet cobblestone road. The children are still at school after all and Ginny had moved out a few years ago.  
Nowadays there’s just Harry and Kreacher and though the house-elf has grown to be a little more friendly over the years he’s still a right depressing company.  
Ron wordlessly helps him into the house and Harry _knows_ that his friend wants and explanation for his behaviour but exactly at that moment Harry springs into action.  
Roughly he pushes his friend against the wall next to the door before bumping their chest together, pulling his head down to his level and attacking his mouth with his own.  
There is nothing gently about it. All demanding hands, insistent tongue and nipping teeth he's barely giving Ron a chance to react._ _

__Somewhere in the back of his head the voice of reason, which sounds a lot like Hermione, complains that it’s not okay to kiss Ron without making sure the other wants to be kissed by him.  
It only manages slowly to push back the exhilarated euphoria from finally doing what he didn’t even dare to want since he was an ickle school boy and the all-consuming panic of what it means for their friendship.  
He leans his forehead against Ron’s and listens to their mingled breath.  
He should probably apologise. It wasn’t right. Ron had never shown any kind of indication that he felt in any other way than platonic about him.  
Ron hasn’t pushed him away yet though, hasn’t straightened his back yet, so Harry says nothing._ _

__“Harry...” croaks Ron and Harry can feel the puffs of hot air on his cheeks.  
“this wasn’t planned.” muttered Harry still pressing his body against Ron who’s just letting it happen.  
Ron laughs and it sounds almost like a sob. Sad, exhausted.  
“Mate…you’re drunk.”  
“Yeah...” _ _

Reluctantly Harry takes a step backwards. The spell is broken and Ron is shifting seamlessly into caretaker mode  
Under the scrutinising eyes of Kreacher the redhead helps him out of his coat and shoes. He trudges behind him on the stairs to make sure he doesn’t fall and orders the house-elf to bring a big carafe of water to the master bedroom.  
They barely speak another word as Ron helps him change into his pyjamas, makes him take a double dose of hangover potion and performs a tooth brushing charm before he is finally leaving.  
_At least,_ thought Harry staring at the ceiling and willing away the prickling behind his eyes, _at least he doesn’t hate me_.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry wakes up and his mouth feels like a mangy polecat died on his tongue.  
The morning sun is turning the room an icy gold and he almost slipped on the bedside rug when he rushed out of bed. He’s late and doesn’t feel like breakfast.  
He downs another hangover potion and mutters a fast cleaning spell before stepping into the floo.  
Things are stressful.  
Harry doesn’t even have the time to drink a cup of tea between administrative tasks, several last minute holiday applications and a talk with the minister of magic (Hermione was _not_ impressed by a recent decision of his) and two questionings.  
He doesn’t even notice the day go by until it’s already pitch-dark in front of the window in his office. A little panicking he throws a quick glance at the clock the wall...it’s already past ten. Harry mutters a curse.

it’s too late to visit Ron in his office but Harry tries anyway.  
As he enters, he international department is mostly deserted except for the lab and the strategists’ room.  
Harry knocks at the door but doesn’t wait for an answer gently nudging it open with his foot.  
“Evening, Potter.” said Bulstrode without looking up from the map which as sprawled with a couple of intricate magical devices over the giant wooden table dominating the room.  
Harry gives a nod as a greeting and leans against the door frame to take in the office. Bulstrode and him had been in the year at Hogwarts though they never had much contact except from the cat hair incident back in their first year. Bulstrode back then had seemed like a rather brutish girl. Much taller and broader than Harry and even Ron young Bulstrode had reminded Harry too much of his Cousin Dudley to have even the slightest interest in getting to know him.  
Something always seemed _off_ about the Slytherin.  
To be honest being a strategist was probably the last profession Harry expected the man to choose. Going by his rather intimidating build Harry had expected him to be not the brightest bulb on the lamp shelf.  
He seems to be okay at his job though.  
Ron likes him.

“Weasley went already home. Said he had an important family meeting to attend.” informed the dark-haired Auror Harry finally looking at Harry and stretching his back.  
Time was kind on him.  
Miles Bulstrode has the luck of unmarred features. No scars, not a single pimple. He is muscular and tall with a rather square-shaped build and when he smiles he actually looks kinda nice. Much more approachable than Harry with his scars and gravity-defying hair and unsettling bright eyes.  
Harry knows why Ron likes him.  
He’s got a snarky humour that works well with Ron’s own dry, witty remarks and he is...you know...not a scarred midget with a hero complex.  
He seems to really have his shit together and his life figured out and Harry is a little jealous.  
He just seems so reliable and Ron trusts him so much and he’s good-looking and physically strong and smart and a good auror and Harry is so bloody scared Ron’ll just forget about him that he feels like hexing Bulstrode.  
The sighed.

“You guys should talk. I mean…I really don’t want to get involved in this...but Ron’s kinda confused, yanno...” he’s crossing his arms in front if his chest and grins at him. Harry is assuming it’s meant to look sympathetic.  
Harry grunts and nods.  
“Yeah...maybe tomorrow...still didn’t have time to get some breakfast...” he mumbles.  
Bulstrode nods and takes a sip of tea that looks like it’s already several hours old.

Harry doesn’t know how he ended up agreeing to go get something to eat with Bulstrode.  
He is supposed to call him Miles now but he is still not sure if he wouldn’t rather punch him in the face.  
The more he talks with him though, the more he learns that Miles Bulstrode is not only smart and physically strong and rather handsome he’s also charming and an overly nice bloke and Harry hates it.  
He hates that Miles actually does make him laugh when he tells him about his first case with the Interwiz in Myanmar.  
And as they eat soggy fries and several burgers and he watches Miles empty a giant bucket of American ice cream he doesn’t even notice how time runs and how he tells the other about himself being stupid and kissing his best friend.

“So...why did you kiss him?” says Miles as they sit down next to each other in a corner of a muggle bar.  
There are several men dancing, but it’s rather quiet and the blokes at the bar are much more busy to flirt with each other than bother with two men arriving together and being obviously in a conversation.  
The man behind bar had waved at them and shared a few friendly words with Miles before he passed him to bottles of beer.  
Harry had never been in a gay bar.  
He’d always expected it to be loud and rainbow coloured and kinda plastic-y and sure there are a few rather flamboyant patrons but it’s a lot more peaceful and normal than he expected.

“Dunno...It was kinda dumb...I was drunk...”  
Harry shrugs and takes a sip and musters the dancing men with mild interest.  
It’s kinda nice to see how free they seem.  
“Why is it dumb to kiss Ron. He’s a good bloke and you and him are pretty close...” starts Miles but Harry interrupts him.  
“That’s exactly why it’s dumb.” he huffs in to his bottle. He doesn’t care that Bulstrode can see him pouting.  
“Ron and I know each other for several decades. He’d never shown any interest in me in _that_ way and...” Harry is huddling himself a little more into his jacket. He feels cold and vulnerable.  
“It’s not right for me to force myself onto my best friend like that. We never were _like that_. I didn’t even let him time to react or something...you don’t just kiss people without making sure they want it. it’s not _right_.”

It’S two in the morning when Miles apparates them in front of Ron’s house.  
The icy rain feels like needles on Harry’s hot skin.  
They are both kind tipsy.  
“What the bloody hell.” mutters Ron as he pulls both of them inside the apartment.  
Glancing to the side Harry can see Miles is equally failing to look guilty.  
“Sorry, Ron...” he’s chirping and swaying a little from side to side.  
Harry can’t help but snort out a slightly watery laugh.  
Maybe he doesn’t hate him.  
“Honestly, it’s Wednesday… You gotta _work_ tomorrow...” rumbles Ron and pushes them both on his tiny couch before padding on bare feet into the kitchen to search the potion cabinet.  
Considering the pyjama pants and the mussed hair he’d have been in bed already.  
The thought of Ron falling asleep reminds him of how tired Harry is.  
“Sorry~...” chirps a very happy Bulstrode in the redhead’s direction before leaning close to Harry to whisper.  
“You should talk with him, Harry~”  
“Not with you watching.”

Ron forces both of them to take a sober-me-kwik potion before he apparates Miles home leaving Harry alone on the couch.  
The sensible thing to do would probably just floo home and talk with Ron tomorrow, and he thinks about doing that, he really does…and then he flops sideways on the couch and falls asleep.  
it’s half an hour later that he wakes up to Ron stumbling out of the floo.  
At least he thinks it’s Ron.  
He kinda lost his glasses and the only thing he can see is a rather blurry tall figure in a cloud of ash.  
“Oi mate...you okay? Shall I bring you home?” say the blurry figure and passes him his glasses so he can look Ron in the face.  
It stuff like that that makes Harry love Ron.  
Ron just _knows_ things. Ron just...Harry is not willing to share him with any one.  
Worried, because Harry hadn’t answered yet Ron squats in front of him to check on him a little closer.  
“ ’m fine...” mumbles Harry and asks himself when he’d ever been fine.  
“ ’f course you are, mate...” sniggers Ron ruffling his already chaotic hair. Harry, maybe a little obvious, leans into his hand causing his friend to suddenly grow still.  
The air feels kind of heavy around them.  
“What’s going on, Harry…?” asks Ron rather later and his voice sounds uncharacteristically thin, almost scared.  
Harry can’t look at his face and presses his nose against his friend shoulder very tentatively Ron’s hand finds a place at the back of his neck. It’s a weirdly gentle gesture and Harry wants to glue the hand there to feel always like that. Safe.

“ ‘m sorry, Ron.” he mumbles against the soft fabric of Ron’s threadbare Cannons t-shirt.  
“I was jealous and drunk and it wasn’t right to do that to you...I...you’re my bes’ friend...I’m really sorry.”  
“What would you be jealous of, mate...you’re bloody great.” mumbles Ron ever patient.  
“...’f Miles ‘f course.”  
Ron laughs dryly and ruffles Harry’s hair again before getting up and pulling Harry with him to stand.  
“Come on, I bring you home, mate...” he rumbles and under his breath “Honestly, Potter, what the bloody hell… that’s a dumb fucking reason to kiss your best mate...” it doesn’t sound angry though. More...resigned.  
“If someone would be your work wife it should be me...I’ve older rights...” huffs Harry very well aware of how childish he sounds.  
“Harry… that was just a joke...” mumbled Ron trying to get some space between them. His ears are red and Harry is pretty sure his face is just as flushed as Ron’s cheeks.  
“They shouldn’t talk about you like that. It’s not even half a year since you transferred and ...” he’s noticing how unreasonably angry he gets. Probably the rest alcohol in his blood. He takes sharp breath and touches Ron’s shoulder feeling him flinch slightly under the contact.  
“...truth is… I miss you.” he finishes rather lamely.

“Do you regret kissing me?”  
Ron looks at him shyly under his pale eye lashes.  
Harry shakes his head.  
At least he hasn’t been punched or hexed yet...not that Ron would have the heart to do that. He’s way to noble for that.  
“I shouldn’t have forced myself onto you like that though...I...you don’t want me like that and that is okay...I mean...it has to be okay...I gotta live with that...” words are difficult Harry the nervousness jumps in his throat and makes him a little nauseous...maybe it was the tequila rapido though.  
“I mean…it’s not like I’m not appreciating your friendship...I… please don’t think I don’t value...you’re my best friend and I’m grateful...”

Ron musters him for what seems like an eternity watching him struggle and stutter.  
It’s unbearable to look into Ron’s face and right now Harry wants nothing more than to run out of the room and wait until they’re both ready to ignore this ever happened. Fidgeting he rakes his fingers through the hair and fiddles with the frayed edges of his jean jacket.

“Harry Potter.” pushed Ron out between his teeth and Harry’s eyes fly to his face stopping his monologue mid-sentence.  
Ron’s face is pale like the wall behind him and his mouth is pressed into a very thin line. His glinting blue eyes seem unusually dark in the white face.  
“You. Bloody. Dumb. Fucking. Idiot.” Ron hisses and his fist curls into the collar of Harry’s shirt.  
“You fucking idiot.” he repeats empathically, painfully pulling Harry forward causing him to ungracefully clash against his chest.  
Harry opens his mouth to say something but the words get lost and just opens and closes his mouth like a fish as he tries to process how _close_ Ron is. Fruitlessly he tries to not look at the way Ron’s neck looks so lickable and his lips...he tries to make step backwards pushing his hands against his Ron’s biceps and mumbling a rather weak “Sorry...”, but Ron’s still holding the front of his shirt in an iron grip.  
“Harry...” Ron mutters and there’s a vulnerable undertone beneath the exasperation that makes Harry stop struggling against the hold.  
“Do you want to kiss me right now…?”

Harry blinks.

“Yeah.” he croaks.

It must have been the right thing to say, because not even moment later there’s chapped lips on his and it feels so fucking right...like this is how they should be from the beginning.  
“Dunno why I put up with so much fucking stupidity….” huffs Ron again his mouth and every word is separated from the next with a dry, shallow kiss.  
Harry just greedily tries to catch a longer one almost toppling off the couch following Ron’s receding form with his whole body. He doesn’t care Ron calls him stupid as long as he keeps kissing him and carding his fingers through his hair. The tension at his collar finally stops as Ron’s fist opens and the hand wanders up to the side of Harry neck right under the jaw.  
The redhead bumps their forehead together half-gently and sighs.  
“Honestly, Potter. This is not just about you being jealous...you’ve been jealous before and never changed anything in our friendship…” Ron sounds almost a little scared. “You know that it would have, Harry. If you would have made it clear at any point that you wanted me like that...” he trails of his eyes locked on Harry’s mouth.  
“I’ve been yours since we’re twelve, Harry. All you had to do was to ask, you fucking prat.” 

“You’re my partner.” mutters Harry licking his lips nervously suddenly very aware of the way every move is observed by his friend.  
“...the most important person in my life. The Person I’ll will always miss the most.” his voices break around the thick knot of emotion in his throat. “I’m greedy...” he whispers. “Whatever you are willing to give me. I’ll take everything.”  
“Merlin, Harry...” mumbles Ron and the Devon accent gets thick in his voice.  
He cradles Harry’s face in his hands and finally, _finally_ he kisses Harry. Deep and just the right amount of rough and Harry is basically kneeling above his lap at this point and it’s everything.  
Harry lost all feeling of time somewhere between the sensation of Ron’s tongue in his mouth and his hands that seem to be everywhere and the delirious feeling of _belonging_.  
“I love you, mate.” rumbles Harry against kiss-swollen lips. “I don’t want anyone else to be your work wife.” and maybe he sounds a little childish for a man his age and position but he feels so fucking possessive.  
Ron just laughs and it sounds like the sun.  
“You’re my one and only partner, mate... and work husband, I promise.” and Ron’s hand is back in his hair and all was well.


End file.
